


Comforting Each Other with Apples

by blcwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Post-movie tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:25:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4230489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blcwriter/pseuds/blcwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  "Bones isn't a sentimental bastard most of the time, but right now he is and it's the proudest moment of his life to stand in this room with a crew full of people he doesn't particularly like and his best friend in the world.  He's not going to make fun of the fact Jim's eyes are glimmering since his own are-- but they aren't glimmering too hard for Bones to toss him that apple, and for Jim to catch it one-handed, with a smile just for Bones."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comforting Each Other with Apples

They take turns comforting each other with apples. 

It's an old biblical phrase and incredibly cheesy and corny, but there it is, and it works for them.  The whole phrase was something Jim'd babbled out during their very first drunken foray after enlistment, something from the Song of Solomon his grandmother apparently read him. "Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love," he'd slurred, raising his beer glass, and heartsick bastard that he was, Bones raised his glass in return.  They use apples when it's mandatory that they be sober, though flagons of whisky and beer have worked plenty well, but the apple thing sounds better in public than flagons.  People already think they're complete drunks.

Somehow, Jim's got an eye in the sickbay.  Maybe he's just got the computer dogging his whereabouts.  Maybe it's Christine, maybe one of the nurses from their class-- in any event, he's like clockwork, and contrary to what people might think of such an outwardly ego-driven personality, Jim Kirk is always on time for anything that matters to somebody else.

So it ceases to be surprising that he shows up every time Bones really needs him as they begin to limp back to Earth, and damned if that isn't a sign of what a bellwether he is, McCoy no longer refers to himself as McCoy, Len, Leo, Leonard, or any of the names his ex-wife used to call him-- he calls himself Bones in his own head.  The first time Jim shows up is two minutes after Bones finishes doing what could be done for Captain Pike-- spinal cord surgery is nothing he's ever been comfortable with for all that he'd done it dozens of times, but _this_.  If Pike walks at all after the damage Bones found when he opened him up he'll be the luckiest man in the universe, and yet even knowing that Bones stares at his own gloved, bloodied hands, doubting.  Did he do enough?  Did he do the right thing? Did he close out before he found and sealed off that one last dendrite that might make the difference between being an active captain or fleet admiral and an admiral by honor, someone wheelchair and Earth bound?  Only time will tell, and yet Bones needs to know now, speed the time that heals all wounds because  goddamnit, he's a doctor, not a time machine, but oh how he wishes he was.  He needs to know he's done everything that's humanly possible and a little bit more because while Bones doesn't have a God complex (no Gods would make a universe so messy as this), he's conscious that there are other humanoids with steadier hands and minds, smaller sleep periods, better physical stamina and otherwise superior intellectual skills, and he wants to feel like he at least tried to catch up with them.

"Bones," comes the rasped quiet voice at his elbow.  "Come on," Jim says, tugging him over to the sink and tugging Bones' gloves off and depositing them with the ease of a doctor in a bio hazard container.  "Let's get you cleaned up and get you something to eat."  He pulls off Bones' surgical mask and the gown over his scrubs, again bundling it into the proper container.  He's a Captain, Jim is, and like any good Captain he knows where things are in all parts of his ship-- he makes it his business to.  So Bones lets himself be led through handwashing and a hot cloth (bless Jim for not thinking it a luxury to use real hot water on a real towel rather than a microwaved antiseptic wipe like Bones would use if left to his own) on the back of his neck and over his face and then in a blink they're in Bones' office with the door closed and there are sandwiches and some stimulant drinks and somewhere, God bless Jim, he's dug up an apple and he's paring it into pieces.

It's their private joke so often told and told along with every other cliched apple joke-- "An apple a day keeps the doctor away," he'd said teasingly to Bones once when Bones came after him to check on some burn Jim had gotten for once not through his own fault.  Bones had just growled and tossed the fruit out the window.  "You think brandishing a goddamned piece of orchard fruit at me is going to stop me and you're not the genius I thought you were," he'd retorted.  Apples were just kind of their thing-- a promise that Jim was still there for him and vice versa and a dare to the other one to keep going.  But it starts with comforting each other with apples.

"Here," Jim says, swiping one of the pieces of apple through peanut butter and handing it over to Bones, who's been staring stupidly at the sandwich, still seeing nerves and blood and clamps and a Captain's spinal cord and a Romulan parasite that's going to superimpose itself on his dreams for ages.  "Bones," he says again, and now he snaps out of it and takes the food.  "What am I, a goddamned baby bird?" he snarls, but he still takes the fruit.

They don't discuss how Pike is or might be right then-- another thing about Jim Kirk he knows.  He actually does have a sense of when not to ask something-- it just happens to be his sense, not others'.  Bones is coming around to Jim's way of thinking, sometimes more slowly than he ought.  He shouldn't have doubted Jim when he asked those questions that first time on the bridge with Spock-- and then shudders as the thought _What if he hadn't made it back from that ice planet, where would any and all of us be right now otherwise?_ finally locks on to the base of his spine like that parasite did on to Pike's.

Jim is eating slowly and deliberately, as if by example.  Bones would like to get even more peevish at the sheer obviousness of it all, since he's eaten more recently than Jim and should have been the one to seek him out but ... well, here they are.  So he eats and they exchange general damage reports like it's an officer's meeting and in a strange way it is, with Bones feeling better at the end for having checked in with his Captain and being reassured that things were still proceeding as could be expected.  Jim is off as soon as Bones finishes his mug of coffee, and his rasped "See you later" is less a threat (okay, never a threat, because Jim's always welcome no matter how much Bones bitches) than a promise.

The next time he sees Jim he's just lost a patient-- a Vulcan who was terribly injured in the first attack and has been pining since, near-catatonic since the loss of the planet.  They've pumped him with medication and sedatives and have tried everything-- he even asked Spock to visit the man and detail others to do so to ask the man to hang on-- his species needs him, goddamnit, and while he probably wouldn't be fit for active duty again, he would be able bodied enough if he could just heal here (just a little, it doesn't have to be much, he just has to hang on just the smallest amount) on the ship to repopulate the species.  Their assurances don't work, and the man slips away despite McCoy's twice-hourly check and attempts to lend encouragement with his "your people need you, man, don't you dare give up on me."  Spock's there when it happens and gives Bones what he knows is a look of sympathy-- something that hurts Bones more deeply than the loss of the patient, somehow.  He'd almost think Spock was the one who called Jim except it was impossible, because Jim entered sickbay just as Spock left, the two of them exchanging nods as Jim appeared with two huge steaming hot cups of coffee and what Bones will admit is a fair replica of these apple croissants they like to get at Fisherman's Wharf. 

Bones follows this time as Jim heads to his office and they eat quietly-- Bones manages to get himself re-sterilized this time, and Jim just grips him hard on the shoulder once, saying "Once more into the breach" before heading back out into whatever world there is beyond sickbay.  Bones doesn't know-- he's been here 84 hours and counting.  It's only after Jim's left that Bones notes Jim's voice still seems hoarse and that he thinks Jim's wearing the same uniform he had on the last time he saw him.

The third time Jim comes to sickbay, Bones has just sedated one of his nurses, a young woman who's got three more weeks before she's supposed to graduate-- except it's all too much for her now and it's just caught up with her and she's dropped the medications and bandages she's holding and just stares into space.  Bones supposes it's a good thing (thank the Gods that can't possibly exist for an abomination like Nero to have come into being) that she doesn't start screaming and disturb too many patients, but it's bad enough to see the looks on the faces of the rest of his staff (and his staff, hah, that's another thing it's hard to believe in, that he should be CMO in circumstances like these) as they wonder if they will be next, and even worse that he watches them with an assessing eye and can tell who it will be in what order.  He personally gets this woman set up in an out of the way corner and gets her sleeping, at least, but somehow he can tell she's not coming back from where ever she just went in her mind.  He's just finished conferring with Christine about rotating out the next ones to snap (and she seems to agree, which is good because even Bones can admit he needs backup sometimes) when Jim comes in with some hot herbal tea and fruit salad-- the salad featuring apples and other hydrating things-- and Bones thinks again that despite how much Jim abuses his own body, he's got more than the basics when it comes down to buoying up badly-taxed physical resources in others.  It's only after he's finished his tea that his eyes really focus on Jim and he takes in for the first time that the man has mottled bruises and fingermarks all over his neck, including some even onto his jaw.  He's about to get up and come around when the comm chimes-- Jim's got a hail from Starfleet Command and is off to the bridge before Bones can even open his mouth to say "damnit, Jim, let me take a look at that."

The fourth and last time Jim appears just as Bones is staring mazedly, a lump in his throat, at the stack of death certificates he has to sign so they can go back to Starfleet command.  Again, he's got food, chicken noodle soup of all things, and he grabs half the certificates and accompanying reports and puts them to the side of the desk. 

"Soup, crackers, apple, milk," Jim says solemnly.  "I've got to co-sign these, we'll do them after dinner."  So they talk about how Scotty's already managed to piss Spock off a dozen times in twenty four hours before they turn to the paperwork, and in far too little time for too many lives, he and Jim have signed their way through the deaths-- as they finish co-signing the papers, Jim sticks them all in a bucket under Bones' desk.  When they're done and Bones' desk is clean (at some point Christine came in and removed all the food, bless her) Jim bends underneath, scoops up the full bucket, and says "get some sleep, Bones, Christine will be good for two hours."

Bones blinks at the commanding tone in Jim's voice.  "What are you going to do with those?" he asks with a nod at the bucket. 

Jim looks at them thoughtfully.  "Dictate condolence letters to the families for the Admiralty to convey."  He looks hard once more at Bones before repeating himself.  "Get some sleep, Bones," he orders, and then he's still gone before Bones can get his hands on him to find out how badly he's injured.

\----------------

When he wakes up four hours later, Bones barges his way onto the bridge and bullies Jim into his ready room on the side with his medical kit, since "Christine said you never reported for any goddamned first aid, you bullheaded moron."  He doesn't like the way Jim's smile of relief seems to be more for Bones than himself, and he likes even less that the damned fool's been walking around with three broken ribs without being seen for it.  He's worried that the bruising and laryngeal swelling he can see inside Jim's trachea will lead to permanent damage, so he jabs Jim with some painkillers, an anti-inflammatory and a tissue regenerative stimulant firmly, causing Jim to rasp out an only half-audible "Goddamnit Bones."  For the first time in ages, Bones regrets poking the damned man so hard with the hypospray.  He stomps his way off the bridge, annoyed with himself, and sends up a yeoman a few minutes later with some hot apple cider.  Bones still needs to find out a way to keep track of Jim the same way he seems to done for him these past days.

And then suddenly, they're back at Earth before the end of the ship's day and Bones is occupied for hours overseeing transfer of patients to the proper facilities and meeting directly with the surgeons to whom he's transferring Pike-- by the time he gets back to his quarters where Jim has been nominally crashing, all of Jim's accumulated crap (not much, since he stowed away to begin with) is gone-- and he's already packed all of Bones' things, complete with an apple on top of his duffle.

Bones doesn't see Jim when he gets back to their room-- Jim's been there and gone judging by the crap now on his bed and the pile of uniforms spilling out of his bureau-- Bones' heart flops about whether Jim's being praised or pissed all over right now.  He can't even imagine what they'll do to sort out this whole morass of messy Jim brilliance-- and he wonders where the hell he should start in mustering the Captain James T. Kirk fan club.  He starts someplace easy-- always go with the guys whose lives have been saved, right?

He looks through the comm directory-- "Sulu.  McCoy here.  Look..."

He's just had time to make a dozen more calls, take a real shower (thank God for infinite water resources on Earth) and grab a quick nap when the campus-wide comm system chimes, waking him to alert of an Academy-wide full formal assembly to be briefed regarding what has apparently already been distilled to "The Enterprise/Narada Engagement."  Four words for a universe's worth of pain.  Bones suddenly hates Starfleet brass with a passion and he can't reach Jim on his personal comm-- so he repeats those twelve calls.  They can't be foolish enough to do anything ridiculous to Jim, can they?  He just hopes that the calls he's made stick and that if it's necessary, the Enterprise crew snaps into action at this Assembly.  They saved the Earth together, right?  They can save Jim if they have too-- even he's not as hard to save as a planet.

In the end, though, it's not necessary-- Bones gets there a half hour early, practically before anyone else except Spock, who McCoy most certainly did not call.  He wondered if anyone did, and if not, why he's here so early.  But the Vulcan gives him a cool nod and a "Doctor," to which Bones manages a polite "Commander" and no epithets.  He's too worried for Jim.  But it's a relief, too, because even as McCoy's gotten himself front row seats and saved one for Jim (if the bastard ever picks up his personal comm messages) the next group of people to arrive-- all eight hundred eighty six of them-- are the Enterprise's crew, and with the exception of the seat next to McCoy they've packed the auditorium from front row as far up as they can.  Anyone who wasn't right there is going to have to take a backseat to the Enterprise's crew as they face the Admiralty Board and their curved bench of high leather seats at the base of the room.  At five minutes to, Spock disappears-- only then to reappear in three minutes with Jim from some side hallway.  The two of them walk along the front line only for Jim to look up, look over at Spock, exchange some small nod (when did Jim and Spock get their own language of nods, goddamnit?), and then look proudly over the assembly and the first eighty rows.  He smiles, clearly says "as you were," under his breath, and damned if the whole crew doesn't catch their breath on a collective hysterical laugh right as the admiralty rolls in. Jim slides in next to Bones, sharing a solemn nod (and they have their own nods, goddamnit, that nobody else knows) as he picks up the apple Bones left on his seat.

"'S'alright, Bones," he mutters under his breath, and then it begins.  It's like a court-martial, but not.  Every officer and acting officer is called to give their account to the Board, but no questions are asked, and Pike's looking on in a wheelchair with interest and pride-- no one displays anger.  It's a solemn occasion, and Bones is damned if he knows how he blew through his report without sounding like a fool, but the medical Admiral seems impressed and he supposes that's something.  When he gets back to his seat, Jim hands him the apple back and heads down as Bones realizes that Jim's the last one to speak.

Acting Captain James Tiberius Kirk gives his report of the Engagement, confirming his priors' reports, supplementing them with praiseworthy bits the reporting officers were too humble to mention (and Christ, it's solemn in here but the warm fuzzies alert bells start ringing anyway), and then giving his own account of the ship, his solo activities (he's going to kill Spock later about the "previously unknown indigenous life on Delta Vega") and how he came to find Captain Pike on the Narada\-- all in a rasped tone that isn't his regular voice but is still forceful and calm and in total command, and which echoes to the back of the hall.  Without prompting from the Admiralty (before now Bones is wondering if maybe this wasn't rehearsed, sort of) as shown by the surprise on their faces, Jim then starts to break down what he could have done better, where personnel could have been better deployed, how his timing could have been better used, what failures in command he saw in himself.  And then, finished, he turns to the assembly and casts a calm eye over his crew and all the know-nothing bastards who've been silent the whole time Jim was talking and says honestly-- "If any crew member has something to add, I now invite you to do so."  Bones looks over at Spock, Spock looks over at Bones, and the two of them stand and turn to look up at the crew before they turn back and nod at each other.  (Hell, apparently he and the pointy eared bastard have nods too, at least if they come down to Jim.)  None of this is what Bones expected, but hell, he guesses he's got a bit of command presence too.

Spock technically ranks him so Bones gives him the nod and Spock's cool voice fills the room.  "We, the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, do confirm and endorse Acting Captain James Tiberius Kirk's report of the Engagement, and have nothing further to add to the Assembly.  As First Officer, I would request that these events be reported as record."  The crew stands, somehow in unison, saying solemnly, "Aye."  This hadn't been part of Bones' plan, not really, but it was what he'd hoped might happen and he's glad because he's no good at asking for things, even when they're for Jim.

The Admiralty-- all excepting Pike, good for him-- look like they've been walloped by eight hundred eighty six two by fours in the back of their heads and even Spock looks a little surprised.  Jim, though.  He doesn't look like a kid on Christmas.  And he doesn't look like he just disentangled himself from a nest of four hot Orions.  He's not grinning or smirking or puffing his chest.  He's just more ... Jim than he's ever been, even though there's some new Jim in there too.

Pike snorts a quiet little snort at himself, looks at the rest of the board, and does what Bones hadn't hoped dare they would do but what Jim, the crew, the Earth, the whole goddamned universe deserves to have done and awards him the Enterprise, seconded by Spock and "those of the crew as are willing to return to their commissions." 

Spock accepts instantly.  Bones bounds out of his chair to add his strangled "Aye, Captain," and there's a clamor as Scotty and Chekov and Sulu and Uhura all pop up all at once and just beat the rest of the crew out of their seats, to add the senior officers' "Ayes" to an auditorium full of crew waving apples and calling "Aye, Aye, Captain Kirk."  Somewhere, Spock has acquired a Granny Smith apple, and holds it up for Bones' inspection with a quirk of his eyebrow.  One green apple in a sea full of red-- it's fitting, and Bones manages a smile in acknowledgment.  Spock actually quirks an eyebrow again and the warm fuzzies alert is on high.

Bones isn't a sentimental bastard most of the time, but right now he is and it's the proudest moment of his life to stand in this room with a crew full of people he doesn't particularly like and his best friend in the world.  He's not going to make fun of the fact Jim's eyes are glimmering since his own are-- but they aren't glimmering too hard for Bones to toss him that apple, and for Jim to catch it one-handed, with a smile just for Bones.  He takes a bite as he faces away from the board, salutes his crew, says "As you were" aloud in a raspy voice that carries straight back to Iowa before he turns back to the Admiralty and Pike to accept the commission. 

It's a whirl after that-- of course the senior officers are immediately shanghaied for a private meeting with the Admiralty and Bones gets cornered by the medical Admiral, but fortunately the man seems alright and Bones avoids the urge to take a drink from one of the waiters who seem to be circling the room.  He's too tired to get drunk.  Eventually he's released and he steels himself about making his way through the rest of the brass, only to find that Jim's gone again with the Chief Admiral and God knows how long that's been.  He starts to feel a little lost and catches Uhura's eye-- she shrugs and Pike catches the exchange.

"They had to meet with the Governors," he says.

"The Planetary Governors?"  Bones asks, somehow not wheezing.

Pike shakes his head.  "Interplanetary Governors and the High Council."

Bones feels like there's no air in the room.  Jim had to go meet the most important people in the universe on his own with three broken ribs and a bruised trachea Bones never really treated and he knows damned well Jim probably hasn't slept more than six hours in five days?  Why the hell was Spock still here if that was the case?  He should be there in case Jim falls over, though he probably won't say anything stupid-- Jim tends to clam up when he's really, really tired.  But still-- someone should be there with him.

Pike looks at him with interest.  "I think he'll be fine.  That was quite a show of support you orchestrated back there," he added.  "What's with the apples?"

Bones is too tired to make something up, so he just grumbles "It's just something Jim would recognize," and leaves it at that before pleading tiredness and excusing himself with a meaningful look at the rest of the crew.

Jim's not there when he gets back to the room and lacking any bright ideas he collapses onto his bed.  Space takes it out of him-- he's better on land.   But he'll put up with it-- it's a career that actually means something and has nothing to do with his old life and old family and ex-wife.  Space is scary and dangerous and disease ridden and dark, but it's new and Jim's there.

\----------------------

It's very late and very dark when Jim stumbles into the room, and Bones rolls over and slaps the light on only to gape at the sight-- sometime between the brief reception with the Admiralty Board and now Jim's been given a full formal captain's uniform and it looks amazing on him even as Jim looks completely exhausted and like a little boy who's more than a bit lost.  "H'lo, Captain," Bones manages, then watches as Jim actually winces at the term while he starts to undress. 

"God, Bones.  I just want to sleep."  He strips down to his briefs, moving slowly and wearily, and it's the first time in a week that Bones has had a chance to see Jim without any clothes on, much less in private.  He gets up and stands in front of the man, checking him over just to make sure as Jim waits patiently, then bares his teeth.  "Do I pass inspection?"

Bones nods solemnly, holding Jim's chin, and says "every inspection ever," before kissing him with every bit of pride and love that's in him-- which is a lot.  Jim seems to visibly melt, and Bones drags him over to bed and sees him settled down on his back before he turns off the light and joins him under the covers.

"Missed you," Jim murmurs, then sighs when Bones starts tracing each muscle and bone with his fingers and lips lightly and careful of how tired and sore Jim must be. 

"Missed you, too," Bones replies, but mostly his welcome home and welcome back and thank God it's all over is silent but for the sounds of his lips on Jim's skin and their breathing and wordless groans filling the room.  Jim isn't usually passive but he's tired and lets Bones do what he wants, which is touch and taste his fill more gently than usual, but it eventually ends like it always does with their two bodies entangled and Bones pulsing his release in Jim's heat while Jim clenches and babbles "Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones" on permanent repeat as he spurts his own release between the two of them.  It's the best music in the world to the doctor--  and then the frequency modulates and Jim starts to cry, at first quietly and then with all the force of a hurricane.

He hitches Jim into his arms, rocking him under the covers as all the emotion of the past week comes pouring out in a flood.  Jim does this-- he suppresses until the crisis is past and then totally loses his shit, while Bones has little mini moments of breakdown during the crisis that Jim pushes him through-- they're complementary that way.  So Bones starts whispering words that aren't nonsense because they're true.  He tells Jim how brave and strong and good and smart he is, how he did the best job anyone possibly could, how everyone is so lucky to have him, and repeats himself over and over until his own voice is hoarse and Jim's hiccuping like a child into Bones' chest.  At last he stills and Bones just continues to hold him, stroking the hair on the back of his head and whispering that he loves him into Jim's ear.  When his breathing is even, Jim mumbles softly "Thanks for the apples."

"It's the least I could do," Bones replies, hitching him closer and petting Jim's hair again, stroking his hands over his back as he tries to make sure his lover and Captain and friend is cried out enough that he can finally sleep.  "It would have been rude to take you in front of the entire Assembly," he says, "so apples had to stand in for how much I love you."

"I would have loved to see the look on Spock's face, though," Jim murmurs into his chest with a touch of his regular humor, and they both sigh an air of relief.

"Please," Bones pleads, but it's joking.  "I do not need that image."

He pulls them both out of bed long enough to get them cleaned off in the shower, then leads a now very sleepy, very quiet, very passive Jim Kirk back to bed-- he'll probably sleep a day or more unless Bones wakes him so he asks reluctantly for the plans for tomorrow and gets the reasonably okay news that Jim doesn't have to report before lunch, so Bones alerts the computer. 

"Sleep, kiddo, okay?" he asks, and Jim sighs in acquiescence, sagging into Bones' chest.

"... apples, f'r I'm sick of love 'cept for you," Jim mumbles into his chest, sleep taking him over.

"Except for you," Bones responds.  It's cheesey as hell, but it works.  And love's better than whiskey or apples or beer when it's with the right person, which Jim most unquestionably is.

**Author's Note:**

> The apple idea came from the Kobiyashi Maru scenes-- Kirk's being so damned sexual as he plays with the fruit during the simulation and Bones is just watching him with this "Boy, what are you up to?" look on his face-- which got me to thinking.  What if an apple isn't just an apple?


End file.
